Those Old School Days
by stormsandsins
Summary: Blair's past comes back to haunt her and she itches to teach that someone a lesson in respect. #1 in the Behold Man series.
1. Chapter 1

**Behold Man**: The lengths people will go to... A series exploring the darker sides of Man and the secrets revealed by our persistent pair.

**Author's note**: Hope you guys enjoy this. It's different from my usual GG undertakings but not so unfamiliar to me since I've written in this genre before. This is part of my _Behold Man_ series which will explore and reveal the dark sides of Man. I've decided to post each story separately because the chapters would be quite long otherwise and I'm not quite sure you guys would like that. Anyway. Let me know what you think, lovelies!

* * *

**THOSE OLD SCHOOL DAYS**

_Run, run, run away. No sense of time.  
Want you to stay. Want to keep you inside._

_- Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Runaway_

"But can you say it smiling?"

The dream exploded, drenching Blair with an acute sense of loss that shook her awake. Heart pounding its way out of her throat, she tore the eye mask from her eyes and recoiled against the warm sunrays that penetrated her curtains.

New day in a new apartment in a new town. Her dream finally come true. She could hardly believe it. She'd made it! Yale was hers to impress. Yet as she studied the feeling that stretched triumphantly in her chest, she realised… the success wasn't as sweet as she'd anticipated.

Blair sat up gingerly, squinting to accustom her eyes to the pale light filtering inside the as-yet spartan apartment. Oh, maybe she was over-analysing the whole situation. Here she was, ready to take the school that had snubbed her two years ago. She should feel positively self-satisfied.

NYU had been… painful and humiliating at first, but once she'd sucked it up she'd actually focused on the one thing that truly mattered: school. Goodbye, people who cared that she came from the Upper East Side. Surprising. Liberating. Eye-opening. And then she'd applied again to Yale because, yes, despite not hating the non-Ivy League university anymore, she'd decided to be… proud, and not let a past rejection stop her from reaching for her goal. Hello, Connecticut. Reform was in, apparently.

As if on cue, her phone's alarm went off.

"Here we go," Blair grunted to herself mid-unladylike yawn.

#

Blair navigated the buildings and halls easily, schedule and books in hand. She'd visited the campus so often that she practically knew the layout like the back of her hand. Still, she kept eyeing the bit of printed paper with her carefully planned schedule every few seconds every time she passed a classroom. Excitement and "oh how have you beens" gushed out around her, and yet she didn't care to look for familiar faces – the one she was sure to find _somewhere_ on the campus. Inconspicuous, her new middle name. Considering her old one – Scheming Meddler – had gotten her a swift boot out of this very institution in the first place… Inconspicuous she would be for as long as humanly possible.

"332," she finally breathed to herself, smiling as she pushed past sudents idling around the doorway. "Excuse me, out of the way."

Quietly, she sat at a desk, layout her notebook and newly-purchased literature textbook on top, and watching a handful of other students – from freshmen to slightly more understated seniors – walk in and settle themselves around the auditorium. A group of boys sat near her and promptly began discussing the latest soccer game results. Giggling girls settled next to them –

"Blair Waldorf?"

Blair frowned, swivelling in her seat, only to gape in shock at the Asian beauty in front of her. Effing incongruous was the better term. "Nelly Yuki?"

#

The initial shock wearing off, Nelly finally smiled, though her eyes strayed to find more students arriving in the classroom. She licked her lips. "Blair," she said again, her voice raising the slightest. "You transferred?"

Blair nodded wordlessly as she again raked Nelly's new style. Her jet black hair had been cut short into a stylish blob, sweeping bangs longer in the front and framing an expertly made-up face in shades of green and pink. The whole only complimented her pale green and white print dress – Yves St. Laurent's latest – and Blair simply… boggled at sight of the small frameless designer sunglasses perched on top of her head. Eye surgery much?

Nelly bristled under the open scrutiny. "Isn't this… pleasant."

A girl called out to her suddenly. "Nelly! What are you doing, bitch? We saved you a seat."

Nelly held up an imperious French manicured finger to the tittering blonde, then turned back to Blair. "Listen," she said suddenly with a thin cocked eyebrow, "there's a party tonight at my sorority house to welcome the new school year." She fished through her little leather purse, producing a colour flyer bearing the name Sigma Psi Zeta. "Seeing as you just got here, you might as well make some new friends."

Blair accepted the sheet hesitantly. "Thanks."

Nelly shrugged easily, another smile in place though Blair could see it was… strained. "Anything for an old… school friend." Then she started up the steps toward her pack of colourful friends just as an old harried professor walked in. "I'll see you tonight, Blair."

Blair had the distinct impression she'd entered a new dimension where Nelly Yuki was social royalty while she was a dimmer shadow of the queen she used to be, and a stranger, to boot. She stared at the sheet in her hand as the diminutive woman at the front of the lecture hall began introducing herself as Mrs Sherman and was everyone aware this was the "Class, Desire and the Novel" course – if they were in the wrong room please take your things with you.

Oh, what could it hurt? It had been a while since she'd actually attended an event that wasn't part of the New York elite's social calendar, just for fun.

#

A change of clothes later, Blair found herself swimming through a sea of wild partygoers dressed for the beach – "one last plunge before you hit the books", the flyer had proclaimed in bold letters. Blair saw for herself how literal the message had been when she reached the sliding door to the backyard. There, a gigantic pool and twisting slides took up the entire available space, crawling with young people dressed in swimwear. Blair felt completely overdressed in her ballet flats and a sensible summer dress.

Making friends, indeed.

"Blair! You made it!"

Blair followed the voice to its owner, boggling when she saw Nelly Yuki in… that. A gold string bikini. And dripping. With a mai tai in hand. Designer sunglasses in place. Looking for all the world like she'd been born to do this and always had. A gaggle of her friends and several boys tagged along, surrounding her. Once again, Blair felt like someone must be fucking with her screenplay. Nelly Yuki was _not_ a hip popular chick, it just didn't compute.

"Er, yeah!" she offered instead of the "who are you and where is Nelly Yuki?" that wanted to come out of her mouth. "I didn't think it would be like… this," she finished lamely.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I should have told you to bring a bathing suit." Nelly glanced sideways and changed subjects before Blair could retort with a platitude. "By the way, guys, this is the girl I was talking about from Constance. Meet Blair Waldorf."

A short brunette in a turquoise bikini – what little of it that covered her – perked up. "Is it true your best friend slept with your boyfriend? Is he hot? Are you still with him?"

Nelly chuckled, pushing the girl back with a smirk. "Down, Shelly." Then she took her fashionable glasses off her nose, dangling them off her finger. "It's been so long, Blair. _Are_ you still with Nate?"

"No, we… no," Blair stammered awkwardly. Gosh, there was nothing to talk about. Only a heartbreak realised too late and years of lies to feed a fairytale.

The Asian girl pegged Blair hard, the look one almost of a predator. "Finally found your way out of your pathetic little storybook?"

_Whuh._ "What?" Blair breathed, horror niggling into her mind at the piercing look aimed at her.

But Nelly wasn't done. "What about Penelope and the rest?" she growled, triumph ebbing steadily into her eyes. "Left you alone after prom, didn't they? Oh, they probably found someone else to suck up to. Or maybe they found it wasn't worth it."

Frozen, Blair watched Nelly Yuki's ruby lips move in horror but couldn't hear the words coming out of her mouth. She was too busy wondering if it would be possible to wake up from this worst nightmare any time soon.

Nelly glanced at her friends, taking strength in their number and the fact that they were all watching the frozen figure Blair made with varying degrees of newfound disdain. No one liked a fallen queen. They only liked to break ugly ducklings or transform them into thankful little copies of the original swan. Blair didn't fit the requirements.

"Remember prom, Blair?" Nelly's eyes sharpened maliciously.

Fuck, how could she forget? It only haunted her when she wanted to forget the whole night.

"I _never_ thought I'd see the gold of that crown," the Asian girl continued in the same triumphal vein. "It was _almost_ as though… _someone_ had set me up for embarrassment."

Blair remembered the indignation she'd felt. Overriding that feeling, though, had been the bone-deep betrayal of the one person… who made all the previous losses culminate to that final one. It wasn't even about the crown. It was that he would choose to ruin the one night she had left to shine.

"Me, in my hideously ill-fitted dress." Nelly turned to her friends almost apologetically. "You have to understand, I was a _very_ different person back then. Right, _B_?"

She had to leave. Now. If she could move her own two feet away from the person who embodied everything she'd lost. "Excuse me. I'm not feeling so well after all," she murmured, shuffling away after regaining control of her limbs. She felt so numb that Nelly Yuki's next blow penetrated her defenses to the quick, too easily.

"What?" the other said darkly, "don't tell me you still worship the porcelain gods? Really, B, that's not very _in control_ of you, now, is it?" And she laughed again as Blair flinched under the assault. "Good seeing you crownless, Queen B!" Nelly Yuki quipped before Blair could be out of earshot completely.

#

Blair could always run and pray to a God she didn't believe in that this first day at Yale was refundable. Problem was, she didn't even think of that option as she slammed into her apartment a few minutes later. She'd been numb; the stilted walk back had proved refreshing. She _shook_, boiled inside, ready to explode.

How _dare_ Nelly Yuki treat Blair like the lowest of lowest vermin? She wouldn't be anywhere if it wasn't for her. She'd still be a bumbling nobody with a fetish for granny skirts and Math textbooks stuck to her face if it weren't for her _urgent_ but slow makeover. Since when did a loyal, loving subject stab her queen in the back so viciously? The answer was: they didn't. Take Penelope and the other pet minions – quick, clean break… no mess. They'd simply turned their backs like so many times before, and she honestly hadn't cared anymore.

But if the loyal, loving subject _did_ backstab?

Blair paced. She never paced.

_Good seeing you crownless, Queen B!_

The little conniving _bitch_. She'd pay with blood. Crownless? Blair dragged a hand through her hair. Indeed.

Blair paced. Picked up her cellphone. Paced. Paced. Dialed. Paced. Hit send. Sat hard on her bed, knuckles going white around the small contraption.

The other end picked up after three rings. "Never thought I'd see your name again," the male voice drawled distractedly in her ear, and Blair was utterly helpless against the small shiver of awareness ramming through her. Nothing she could do to prevent it.

"I need your help," she murmured in the mouthpiece and nevertheless prepared herself for the rebuke that was sure to come. Desperation coloured her words with shame, and still she hoped.

A small snort sounded at the other end amid the telltale clap of keys on a keyboard. "Need a social resurrection?" Then a total pause before he added. "By the way, how's Yale?"

_Hell via blast from past_. "Nelly Yuki," she growled into the phone. When he didn't reply immediately, she continued, vehemently. "I want her head on a platter."

She imagined him reclining in his father's plush, refurbished office, the New York City skyline outlined in darkness and in light behind him. There would be a definite reminiscence to the Old World look that his father had preferred, but an even bigger leaning toward an opulent, hip postmodernism, hard lines assorted to sweeping curves and bright colours. At the moment the lights would be dimmed, setting Chuck nearly in shadows but for the changing lights behind him and the blue halo from his computer screen showing columns of numbers and names. She saw it so clearly, and yet she'd never set foot near Chuck Bass in two years. The overwhelming certainty surprised her.

"I thought you were more than capable of handling her yourself," he taunted smoothly, dismissively. "Give her the old 'bitch bow to me' routine."

Blair glared nails through her bare walls – they would need art if she didn't want to have migraines all year long. "She gives a new definition to 'whoa, Nelly'."

"Not my problem, Blair."

"_You_ made her my problem," she hissed at him through her teeth, hating that she would have to stoop down so low as to begging.

Chuck sighed, a long-suffering one. "Now what did I do? _From my office in New York_, might I add?" He spoke as if she was simply being silly and wasting his time.

Blair stared a hole through her wall, feeling a headache setting in comfortably. "Prom," she growled viciously. "You made her queen. Chuck, she's unstoppable."

"And I'm a wealthy, _busy_ businessman, Blair," he interjected with another sigh. "I'm past juvenile schemes and, by the way, aren't you exaggerating just a bit?"

Without even knowing how she got there, Blair was suddenly on her feet again, pacing a hole in her parquetry. "Not even a little," she replied hotly, then gathered herself to convince him. "Get the dirt on her; that's all I ask."

She virtually saw him rolling his eyes in disgust as he replied. "Pick up the Yellow Pages and get your own P.I. Besides," he added as an afterthought, "mine's on vacation."

Blair scowled out the darkened window for a change, tapping her foot in exasperation. Why couldn't he understand? "We both know you can be more than persuasive when you want to be," she said wryly, unwilling to go through the specifics. She was a case in point.

His voice on the other end became… tired. "When there's something in it for me, yes." He paused, meaningfully. "I don't see anything worthy here."

Blair's heart drummed to her throat in dismay, her fingers loosening ever so slightly on her phone as defeat and desperation warred within her. Could she? Could she really ask him to ignore two years of nothing, not even a "hi" or a "how are you" to help her? Swallowing, she knew the truth, but it couldn't prevent her throat from becoming paper-dry. "I could make it–" she began, only to be interrupted by Chuck's hard voice cutting through her resolve.

He sighed. "Save your breath. I'm not interested." There. The final words.

_No_. "Chuck…" Floundering, Blair sat again, closing her eyes and drawing up old memories, fond memories from a time not so far away after all. "Remember the chase, the thrill, the mysteries?" she began with a small smile, sure it translated through her voice and back to him. "Finding the truth and making heads spin? Think about it… putting Nelly Yuki in her place…"

It took a while for him to answer, but he didn't reply as she'd expected. "… And you in yours? I thought you were over queendom."

"I am," Blair snapped, "thanks to you."

He didn't waste time poking into the wound. "And yet here you are, calling me at this ungodly hour," he sneered, pausing to let it sink in. "You must be a masochist, Blair."

For a moment Blair considered calling him every name in the book in two languages just to spite him. But as she opened her mouth to, she stopped herself. Against her closed lids she saw her dream from that very morning – and way too many before to count – a haunting vision that ceaselessly mocked her into reality. Right then and there, she simply lost the fight in her – twice in the same night… a new record. "Nevermind, Chuck. I never called. Go back to your whores or spreadsheets or whatever and goodnight."

She held the phone tightly in her hand, unsure if she was willing him to respond or change his mind or what. Or just listening. Yet just when she'd given up waiting for help in her last hope to reclaim herself, he spoke. "Blair."

She didn't reply. Lay down in bed waiting for what he had to say.

There was a long pause, and she wanted to imagine him finding it as hard to say goodbye for real, as she had. There'd been no words two years ago. He breathed out suddenly, the sound a gust of what she wanted to be regret. "Goodnight, Blair."


	2. Chapter 2

**THOSE OLD SCHOOL DAYS, part two**

_All along, not so strong without these open arms. Ride beside._

_- Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Runaway_

The next day rammed by. It seemed most of the school had heard a version of her public throwdown. They now recognised her, and pitied her or sneered. She floated by, unseeing, intent only on attending business classes she wasn't sure she wanted to attend anymore. She barely heard the class introductions, barely saw the words on the outlines handed down the rows. She saw the Yale logo on the front page of each sheaf of paper and latched onto it, feeling nothing at all.

Class ended, another one began and ended just as meaninglessly. Apparently they already had homework. Blair stuffed her agenda into her pursed and stuffed her manual and notebook onto her arms, wondering why she'd brought either as she pushed past the doors outside. The sun hit her face and she was momentarily blinded, halting on the top step to recover. Then she looked up, and faltered, catching herself at the last possible second.

At the end of the long walkway waited a dark understated car, an equally dark man – no, a touch of lime coloured his ensemble – leaning back lazily against it and gazing up inscrutably at the front doors. Blair's heart stopped.

No, it couldn't be…

Blair took a deep breath. It was. She'd recognise that barely restrained feline grace anywhere. Thick black hair swept back off his softly angular face, every feature stood out as entirely Chuck Bass even from afar.

But… why? Well, she wouldn't learn a thing holding tight onto the railing. Letting go suddenly, Blair flexed the strain out of her hand and warily made her way down the stairs, feeling spied all around but especially by the strong presence straight in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked when she'd finally reached him. Couldn't look into his eyes. Focused instead on his ear.

He pushed off the car, bringing them closer, and produced a slim laptop case from behind his back. "Making heads spin," he replied quietly, then looked up to the courtyard beyond her, to glare at something. Or someones. Blair didn't care to look. She knew they were all talking and now, thanks to Chuck's appearing act, they were likely talking at double speed. "I don't miss school in the slightest," Chuck growled before reaching behind him to open the back passenger door. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Like she had any better offers to get out of there?

#

The driver left them at the hotel Chuck was staying at and they still hadn't shared another word. He hesitated visibly at the entrance hall, then booked a conference room for them at the front desk. As he waited for the confirmation, Blair glanced over covertly, caught off-guard when she slammed into his curious gaze.

"Conference room number two, Mr Bass," the kindly woman in the crisp hotel uniform informed him after a short moment. "Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you," he replied, breaking eye contact with Blair to take the plastic keycard from the hotel employee.

"Let us know if you need anything."

Nodding non-commitally, he drew away toward the long hallway of conference rooms. The sound of Blair's dainty heels followed after him, reverberating in the hollow silence. Then he drew up, slid his key into the card slot, and let her in first.

Silently he connected his laptop and powered up as Blair walked around the room, studying the non-descript framed photographs on the walls. She knew he watched her, could feel it in the tingles along her spine. There was nothing heady about it either, simply… curiosity. Awareness. She was so aware of him and everything that crackled with tension between them.

Finally she heard him tap on his keyboard. Blair turned, watching his eyes narrow as he studied his screen and pressed keys, seemingly at random. Crossing her arms, she hugged herself, wishing he would at least talk to fill the tense silence, because she had no idea what to begin with.

He soon granted her wish, reading off of his screen. "She started hanging out with socialites last year," he began in a toneless drone. "Three DUI's last summer in LA. Her dad meanwhile lost a fair amount of money at Wall Street, had to cut hundreds of employees not to mention pays. Whispers about a mistress in the homeland, too – usually it's the opposite for Asians. Nelly herself ploughed through ten boyfriends in under three months. She missed four charity dinners last month–"

Blair interrupted, shaking her head as she walked behind him to peer at his laptop. "That won't be enough. There's got to be something you're missing, something no one knows."

Chuck pulled a new tab over his newspaper articles and typed an address he fished out of his blazer pocket, then logged into a private account. Within a search, dozens of seemingly random filenames appeared before their eyes. He clicked through them, quickly going back to the results page with each, before he smiled and drummed his fingers. "Arrested for possession in Prague?"

Blair perked up, then leaned closer over his shoulder. Her lips stretched into a delighted smile. "Starting to get interesting… Where'd you get this?"

He didn't answer, and besides she didn't really care about the answer – and if it was illegal, then… she hadn't touched the keyboard! She felt his eyes on her, and even that was just fine. She even knew he must be smiling, and that was… wonderful… for the first time in a while.

#

The next day passed in a blur. Her one class ended early and she nearly skipped on her way out, pushing through a throng blocking her exit with a roll of her eyes at the way they ended their conversations when she showed up. Cowards, the lot of them!

Blair then pulled up short when she saw the car waiting for her. She'd just been about to call a taxi. "Oh Chuck, you sly thing," she muttered to herself under her breath, grinning all the same.

He wasn't waiting inside. "Miss Blair Waldorf?" the driver asked politely, his eyes catching hers through the rearview mirror.

"Yes," she replied, making herself comfortable.

He bobbed his head. "Won't be a while, miss. Mr Bass was held up with work."

Blair closed her eyes, enjoying the soft breeze from the open sky roof that stirred her hair gently. She might have actually dozed a minute or two.

#

The woman at the reception – a different one, younger – smiled when she asked to call Chuck's suite. "You must be Blair Waldorf?" Blair nodded, frowning. The receptionist opened a drawer and slid a keycard over to Blair. "Mr Bass asked us to give you a key to his suite. Have a pleasant stay with us."

When she stood in front of suite 720, though, Blair drew up short right before sliding the card home. It would be rude to enter unannounced. Besides, she could hear his voice garbled through the door, talking to someone in… French?

Blair knocked.

Chuck's voice rose. "Come in."

Blair slid her plastic card through the slot, pushing in sheepishly.

Chuck stood on the balcony. As he listened to his interlocutor, he waved her over to the table in the dining area, then turned his back to grunt something into the phone.

_Ha_, Blair thought. She could still hear his horrid accent. "Dîtes-lui que je n'attendrai pas éternellement." _Tell him I won't wait forever._ Blair smiled. At least his conjugation had gotten better… because of whom? Yes, her.

Blair tuned him out, straightening the papers by his open laptop and squinting at the tables of endless, meaningless numbers before minimising the windows and starting a game of Solitaire.

Mere minutes and three foiled games later, Chuck walked back in with a "Merci, je vous rappellerai demain" to his client. _Thanks, I'll call you tomorrow_. Blair ended the card game and slid into the next seat as he approached.

"You're early," he said by way of greeting, pocketing his phone and plopping next to her with a weary grunt-sigh.

Blair smiled, feeling it twinkle all the way to her eyes. "On commence tout de suite?" she teased playfully with her proper accent, nudging him just a little. _Are we starting now?_

Chuck laughed, ducking his head, and she saw a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. He'd been a horrible "student" to her; he'd mostly railed against the French and their stupid complex with all its crazy insane rules and exceptions while she'd attempted to tell him that was the true beauty of Molière's tongue. He'd merely made fun of her thirteen year-old self for finding something so intangible "sexy". Yet here they were, and he obviously had need of such a "stupid" language in his work. Regularly, by the looks of it.

Oh, she would gloat… inside.

The moment was broken when his laptop pinged with an incoming email. Chuck frowned and clicked, then typed a quick reply and groaned as another one pinged home. Grimacing, he turned to her sheepishly. "Do you mind?"

Blair picked up her things and headed to the balcony, throwing behind her, "Go ahead. It's still business hours." She found a wick chair by the sliding door. Sitting, she pulled out her _Emma_ copy for English class and soaked up the sun a moment before digging in.

She didn't see Chuck's small smile at her profile before he did likewise.

#

"Okay," Chuck finally announced later, jolting her out of her story, "I'm officially 'out of the office' for the rest of the day." Leaning back, he gave her a boyish smirk that was at odds with the businesslike demeanour she'd spied every once in a while as he worked. He now stretched back in his chair, giving an utterly relaxed energy that she knew better – though she found she didn't dislike the driven, business-minded Chuck either.

"Good," Blair retorted, marking her page and walking over, getting into mischievous mode herself. "What else do we have?"

Chuck swivelled to face her as she sat next to him again, his knees bumping into hers. Mischief shone in his eyes as well. It felt so good to get a grip on herself. "I emailed a former client who works in Prague. We… used to run in the same circles and he owed me besides. Turns out…" With a grin he clicked onto a file on his desktop and turned the laptop over to her.

"Oh my God," was the first thing out of her mouth, her eyes lighting up even as she scrunched up her nose in distaste. "_Yes…_"

Chuck leaned over to click the window off the screen, eyes darkening and smirk widening at the thought of closing in for the kill. "My thought exactly. What shall we do about this, Waldorf?"

#

"Thanks again for inviting me," Blair said as she slipped into her seat, sliding the pristine napkin onto her lap and her gaze taking in the chick interior of the restaurant she'd glimpsed next to the elevators. Dim lighting enclosed the large but barely crowded restaurant in warmth. The overall decoration was understated, though tasteful paintings and pale gauzy curtains added a touch of luxury and serenity.

A waiter immediately came to fill their glasses with water. Chuck sipped at his before replying. "And I told you it's my pleasure. Can't always have you holed up burning soup in your apartment by your lonesome."

She stuck out her tongue at him. "_Can_ you burn soup anyway?" she nevertheless asked incredulously, not really expecting an answer – whoever had ever seen Chuck Bass cook anyway?

Chuck shrugged, obviously unconcerned. "I heard of one instance." And with that he changed the subject, effectively returning to the original one they'd still been talking about in the elevator. "By the way, I'll be checking in with the NYPD since I found an irregularity with her schedule last Christmas, but this should be enough."

Their waiter came back to take their orders after a moment. After he left Blair glanced up from swirling her water in her glass. "Thank you," she said again quietly, looking into his eyes as he steepled his fingers comfortably. "It means a lot that you came all the way here for… juvenile stuff."

Chuck frowned. "I–"

Blair breathed in deeply. "I'm sorry."

Chuck's hands fell away as he raised puzzled eyebrows. "Why?"

Squirming under his scrutiny, Blair averted her eyes and whispered back, "I… I _was_ juvenile. At prom."

Chuck blinked several times, rapidly. "Jesus," he said finally, "that's forever ago, Blair."

"I know!" she cried immediately, dragging a hand over her face. "Which is why I didn't expect you to come at all. Much less help as you have." She bit her cheek and added quietly, "So thank you."

For a moment they both remained silent, exceedingly so, as they stared at the fine embroidery of the white tablecloth. "For what it's worth," Chuck said at length, "I was juvenile, too." The muscles in his jaw worked as he swallowed hard, then looked up, dark eyes older, entrancing… honest. "Jealous." _Of you and Nate_, Blair finished in her head for him.

She swallowed hard, reaching for her glass to drown her parched mouth. "It didn't work out," she said hollowly. "Nate and I. we just… didn't…" She gulped a mouthful again, unable to go on.

"I know," Chuck replied.

"I didn't…"

"I know," he repeated gently.

Blair stared hard, and frowned in confusion. How could he know?

The question must have been evident on her face because he answered as though she'd spoken aloud. In typical Chuck half-answers. "My laptop's seen more than columns of numbers and business offers," he said almost apologetically, and that struck her as incongruous. Chuck never apologised for anything he did, whether he was right or wrong. "Anyway," he said, uncomfortable under her scrutiny, "I think I'll go ask the sommelier for a different year – I just remembered I found the 2000 batch bitter."

Blair caught his hand before he could leave and studied his eyes, intent on something she barely understood about herself, about him. His eyes held hers, the warmth in his hand radiating into hers, suffusing. Blair felt his involuntary clasp before he slowly loosened his hold, letting go with a small, wan smile.

She watched him head to the bar and discuss with the wine steward. Subtle things had changed in him. His stance, the way he now held himself like a man – he _was_ one now, she had to remind herself – his pride. Yet, he was not as obnoxiously aware of himself as before – or rather, it was toned down slightly. He was a worldly man, knew his way in this world he now held in his hands. Blair found herself suddenly, passionately yearning for that adult self-assurance, hoped she could one day soon attain that… peace of mind, knowing that she'd achieved something in her life. Besides school.

Chuck soon headed back to their table, a… 1999 Pinot Noir in tow, and tasted it when the waiter poured a finger into his glass. Taking a moment, he then nodded imperceptibly, and watched as the waiter poured their glasses half full. As they tasted the wine silently, the man soon returned with their shrimp appetizers.

Once he had left, Chuck finally spoke again in an attempt to make small talk. "So how was NYU anyway?"

Blair grinned – he probably knew. "Good. How's work?"

Chuck raised his brows briefly, breathing in deeply. "Better. Better than I imagined."

Blair smiled so proudly she thought she'd burst. She did the next best thing and raised her glass in a toast… "To you."

Chuck did the same. "And you," he added softly, watching her drink solemnly as he brought his glass to his own lips.

They ate in silence – wasn't there an ancient saying about enjoying a meal in silence when the food and the companion were good? – commenting every so often on the meal itself until it was all gone. Then Blair leaned forward on her elbows, nursing her glass with a faraway look. "Do you ever wonder how things would be if…" She broke off suddenly at the hard intensity with which he stared at her.

"I try not to dwell in the past, Blair." He added harshly, after downing his glass, "It's unhealthy."

Blair drew away, looking down bashfully. "Sorry. You're right. It's over. It's just…" Glancing up, she found him studiously examining his empty glass before refilling it. "Chuck," she began again, _needing_ to finally tell him what seemed to constantly weight on her these days – lost opportunities. "I should have… for prom. I didn't even – I didn't mean to… hurt you," she finished in a small breath.

"It's over," he replied hoarsely.

Blair bit her lip, wishing it really were. "Yeah, it is. Chuck, it's over. In the past." _Look at me_.

He looked over finally, and she saw the old, quiet pain softening his eyes, so like all the times she'd played with him only to throw him back. In the past. Blair reached for his hand, whispering, "I was afraid, Chuck… for the future."

He nodded imperceptibly. "I know."

Her grip tightened around his hand. "I'm not – I'm not scared anymore." She paused, searching for her words, and it suddenly struck her with its simplicity. Its ease. "Let's be friends, at least. Squash some amateur Asian queen and see where it takes us."

He squeezed her hand in return. "You have Fridays off, right?"

Blair's brow rose in surprise, though she knew she should have known. "Er, yes."

He nodded, as though to himself. "I have two bedrooms in my suite. I'll have someone pick up whatever you'll need," he said before pulling out his cellphone.

Blair, gaping, soon regained her wits about her and narrowed her eyes at him. "Chuck, I just told you–"

But he shook his head, dialing. "Friends," he said, pegging her when he was done. "The benefit here is that we save time and have more of it to plan Nelly's takedown." Searching her eyes, he then abruptly closed his phone. "Or not?"

At a crossroads, Blair took a deep breath and decided to plunge into the choice her head refused categorically – danger! "After dinner. I'd prefer making my own overnight bag myself." Not mention the place was rather… visitor unfriendly at the moment as she'd just moved in three days ago and the cleaning lady and decorator were only due Monday.

Chuck nodded, then tucked into his glazed venison when the waiter brought their entrées over.

* * *

**Author's note**: So yes, if you've been following me for a while on livejournal, you'll know that I'm _actually_ French (Quebecker, to be precise, but there's no regional slang here). I know, shocking. I read the first GG book two months or so ago (not my thing tbh) and if I remember correctly it mentions at some point that Blair's fluent in French... I thought it'd be nice to include that here somehow :)

Ahaha the soup-burning comment is true. My middle sister managed to burn her soup somehow a couple years ago. Don't ask me how, I wasn't there!

So Blair sleeps over eh? Hmm...


	3. Chapter 3

**THOSE OLD SCHOOL DAYS, part three**

_Run, run, run away. Lost, lost, lost my mind.  
Want you to stay. Want you to be my prize._

_- Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Runaway_

He leaned in, eyes twinkling with laughter and happiness, a whole year of games and lies of omission flung out of her mind by the mere sight of honesty in them. "I love y_OW!_"

Disoriented, Blair sat up with a gasp and a headrush.p

"Damn motherfucking table in the middle of the fucking way," came the muffled grunts through the door.

Confusion ebbed away as Blair realised exactly what had happened on the other side of the door. Sliding out of bed, she tiptoed over and cracked it open, noticing Chuck's bent form over his bare feet right away. "Hello, Chuck."

"Mm," he groaned, straightening with a wince. "I was coming over to tell you breakfast is waiting."

"Thank you," she chuckled, then reached over to slide her bathrobe on and follow his painfully stilted gait. And couldn't help tormenting him. "How's the foot?"

He grunted again, unintelligibly, then sat down hard before a tray laden with pancakes, poached eggs and assorted fruit. He pushed the eggs at her, startling her with his memory – he'd remembered she didn't take her eggs any other way. How many more times would he surprise her?

Blair grabbed a peach quarter from the tray and tucked in happily..

"Now, how about tonight?" Chuck said suddenly. She made a quizzical noise as she looked up mid-munch. Chuck smiled indulgently. "Takedown," he specified.

"Oh." She chewed pensively, then shrugged. "It's Friday. She'll be going at a party, most likely."

He nodded thoughtfully, and she could see his mind making dots and connecting at lightspeed. "You all get blast emails from the Greek committees, right?"

"Yes," she answered tentatively, then quickly caught on. "I'll have to check, but I think I saw there'd be one at her house this weekend."

"Good." Chuck speared a piece of pancake soaked in strawberry sauce – his favourite – into his mouth. He spoke again after a moment, eyeing her intently. "Slept well?"

A shiver ran through her at the memory of how exactly her night's sleep had ended. With his eyes boring into hers as though he could hear every thought in her head, Blair reined in the blush she could feel creeping onto her cheeks and shook herself. "Very. Aren't you tired of me thanking you?" she replied with a chuckle as she tucked into her eggs.

"Not at all," he replied bluntly with a boyish grin before turning to his food and asking almost offhandedly, "Will you be staying today?"

Blair's heart lifted at the shyness she heard in the innocent query. "Sure," she breathed.

#

"It's tonight," Blair announced triumphantly from Chuck's laptop later that day.

His eyes narrowed to slits as he excused himself to a client, reminding her as always of the cunning of a fox. "Excellent," he drawled smoothly. "I suggest you make that phone call now."

She'd already flipped her phone open by the time she made it out onto the balcony and he finished speaking.

#

Another party night, this time armed to the teeth with her phone, a headband, and Chuck, who made quite an impression at her arm and with his striped cream-and-purple shirt left open at the collar and the dark plum trousers that completed the ensemble. Dear God, she'd missed his outrageous splashes of colour!

Blair herself had chosen black for the kill. A light, sensible dress that tied at her neck, and a red bow for her hair. Also for the kill. Proverbial blood would definitely spill, and she positively thrummed with anticipation at the thought of finding that fake.

"Who's he?"

"Does he go here?"

"He looks… like a hot teacher."

"I'd hit that hard."

"Nah, too gay. Who wears purple anyway? I bet he's gay."

Blair snorted. Obviously they knew nothing. And on the subject of his sexuality? Blair spared a glance down Chuck's profile… Shook her head. Nope, they'd established his sexuality several times. "Plebeians," she sneered quietly so only Chuck could hear her – and smirk fondly at the venom in her voice. "If only they read other things than girly magazines."

She led him into the Sigma Psi Zeta sorority house with confidence and zest, making sure that Chuck's larger hand was visible in her smaller one. Despite anything, they had to keep up appearances. He was her boyfriend for the night.

Some might say she was being possessive. They… might be right. Honestly, Blair wasn't so sure it was the strength of her hatred for Nelly Yuki that was making her act so cattily.

But Chuck, Chuck who was just as infuriatingly attuned to her every physical emotion, lowered his head to her ear as they stepped into the house. "What's got you strung so tight?" he asked before the booming music assaulted them face-on.

"Nothing," she shouted over it so he could hear her.

But, ex- and perhaps still-playboy that he was, Chuck noticed right then and there the hordes of girls staring openly at him as though he was a piece on display. "Ah, I see." Simply put, he knew exactly what they were after. Him.

Blair glared the hell away. "Do you see Nelly?" she asked, hoping to draw his attention from a busty blonde in particular.

Chuck slid a hand her waist in a clearly possessive move for the benefit of the act, and smiled as most girls turned away in disgust. But even that accomplished he didn't pull away, merely brought his mouth to her ear so she could hear him clearly without needing to shout. "I saw some people heading up earlier."

His nearness brought gooseflesh to her arms, tightening something deep in Blair's chest. Angry with herself for falling so easily prey to his seductive ways – no matter how unintended in the moment – Blair drew away, glaring. "Let's go."

Chuck's quick grasp on her hand stopped her short. She looked back, damn near infuriated by then. "Patience, Waldorf," he drawled, drawing her back to him. "Is everything ready?" Hand at the small of her exposed back, he brought their bodies closer… fitting her against him as perfectly as he had forever ago.

Her breasts grazing his chest, Blair exhaled in a small burst, suddenly breathless. "Yes," she finally managed.

"Good." He surveyed their surroundings carefully, and Blair was aware that, while they did have a most important mission to take care of, there was the matter of keeping up appearances for the sake of getting to that in the first place. While they were at an open house party, there was still the problem that these people around her most probably all knew who she was by now and would find it highly suspect if they were to head up to the bedrooms without a _really_ good reason. _As if_, Blair thought vehemently. _I wouldn't be caught dead sleeping with someone in some female version of a frathouse, even drunk _and_ high_.

"Play along," Chuck murmured, reeling her out of _those_ unpleasant thoughts easily. He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers once before deepening the kiss and turning her insides to liquid fire. Cradling her head, he ground his hips into hers when her fingers sought the fine hairs at the nape of his neck, then the light scruff of his cheeks. While the music and half-naked bodies pumped around them, they danced asynchronously, swaying really. But oh, a sensuous dance that shivered into her clear down to her toes. Hips rolling and tongues sweeping. Hands grazing and stroking adventurously.

Blair hadn't felt this alive in so long that, heart pounding a frenzy in her chest, she pushed him away suddenly, blinking the fuzz out of her eyes. "What are you doing?"

Chuck wordlessly drew her back in for a nip… two… Blair barely restrained a mewl from escaping her lips, yet when she saw his darkened, hooded eyes, her breath stopped in her chest. "Giving us a reason to find a room," he rasped huskily, searching her eyes for something… she didn't know what.

"Oh," she replied, her voice deeper than usual, and she did mewl when Chuck drew her back into him, hand gliding down to her hip and pressing… so much closer. Blair accepted his tongue sweeping past her lips and stroking against hers. Deception and reality meshed, and for a moment Blair was truly at a loss. What was real? What was not? She dug into Chuck's hair, uncaring for the moment. There was a scheme at hand and she'd do what she could to have it unfold as planned.

Chuck, however, made it hard to concentrate on even that more than brilliant plan. His mouth moved stealthily to her ear, licking, biting the tender flesh of her lobe, and then moved to her neck, lavishing its wonders to her pulse point. She'd be lying if she said this was only _his_ kryptonite. Blair's knees trembled as his tongue left a cooling trail down the smooth column of her throat.

She couldn't help it. Sighed his name, and he drew back to her mouth as he swayed into her. "Sometimes I do wonder, Blair," he said against her mouth, sounding almost reluctant to admit it now. "Too often. Too damn often."

Speechless, heart fluttering double-time and light, so light, Blair suddenly pressed her lips against his until he tore away, taking a deep, calming breath. "Come on." He tugged at her, and she found herself following him to the staircase. Under any other circumstances, she might have understood something else from that gesture, but they had something to do. So she forced herself to focus. It was possibly one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do.

#

She didn't know what exactly she'd expected. According to her "file" – Chuck had actually saved everything into a folder on his desktop in case Nelly caused Blair trouble again – Nelly was one busy social bee getting involved in, well, anything it seemed. So after Chuck opened the fourth door down the hall upstairs – Blair had a feeling her eyes had been so violated nothing else could shock her – it didn't really surprise her that Nelly was, one: a hairsbreadth away from being stark naked, two: snorting coke, three: in a jock boy sandwich and four: apparently part of a bigger orgy.

Scratch that, Blair _now_ felt violated. Nelly Yuki should _never_ be half-naked and moan like a bitch in heat. Staring at Chuck for a beat, she communicated her distaste in one succinct grimace, then turned to the sleazy groups and clapped her hands to gain their (_gasp!_) attention.

Blair smirked slowly at the look of fear in Nelly's eyes. Deer caught in headlights. Ah, so Queen B still inspired fleeting fear? Good. She could draw on that. "Why am I not surprised," Blair said dryly. Never show weakness – surprise, in this case. "I mean, I _would_ be if I didn't already know you for the trash you are."

Nelly's eyebrows knitted together. "What are you–" Then her eyes widened as she glanced beside her. "Chuck Bass?"

Blair knew she had Nelly's undivided attention right there. The bitch knew danger when she saw the scheming dynamic duo, there was no point denying it now. They'd taken down bigger fish; Nelly would be nothing and she knew it. "Chuck's taking some time off work to pay me a nice visit, you see," she said sweetly, straightening Chuck's bowtie absently and drawing strength from his proud, crooked grin. He was obviously enjoying himself thoroughly…

This was nothing!

Nelly shoved her boy toys away, reaching for her bra with trembling fingers. "Really," she responded nervously, and buttoned up her blouse all crooked.

Chuck bit his cheek to keep from commenting, then glanced at the rest of the guests around the room. "Lads, I'd take care of those boners if I were you. ladies, please get dressed and get out." Ever the master in a situation. He watched them all scamper away half-dressed with an amused smirk stretching his lips wide. Then he turned to Blair, asking quietly for her benefit, "Remind me why we didn't do this before?"

Blair stroked his cheek fondly, then sharpened on Nelly, voice gone hard and cold as ice. "Here's the deal: get out of my face, you conniving, backstabbing impostor."

Nelly Yuki snorted derisively, as though to say "is that really the best you can do? You're obviously rusty – move aside."

"_Otherwise_," Blair continued as though she'd never been interrupted, "I'll be forced to release all our painstakingly collected files to the press. Not to mention this video…" Before she had finished speaking, she'd pulled out her phone and pressed play.

Nelly's entire body flinched when a man's harsh grunts and moans rent the air. Her eyes widened as she watched her own money-making sex tape, her face turning beet red, and then she charged forward in rage.

Blair pulled her phone out of the way in time, her own grin widening.

"_Where_ did you find that?" Nelly cried, shame colouring her cheeks. "It was… he was supposed to keep it…"

It was Chuck who replied. Checking his groomed fingernails for residual dirt, he shrugged. "In this day and age… nothing is secret anymore." Her deadened eyes slowly panned to Chuck, who winked at her. "I have my contacts."

Nelly exhaled in a gust. "I – I…"

Blair glared. "Know what's good for you, and we'll keep mum." And with that, she turned to leave. Then paused and faced Nelly's discomfit, pretty face once again – it didn't look so pretty bared of her crown. "Oh and one more thing: I'd be careful if I were you. Daddy Yuki will have you watched from now on. He couldn't _believe_ you'd stoop that low to help him." She smirked cooly. "May paranoia be your sole friend…" She left.

Chuck was only too happy to follow in her wake.

#

"You were… amazing in there."

Chuck sat beside her on the steps after calling his chauffeur around the corner, slipping his blazer around her shoulders. Murmuring thanks, she resumed looking at the starry skies, something she thought she could get used to.

"I have no pity for someone like her," she muttered, "even if she did it to help her father. Fucking social climber." After a moment of silence, she watched his prone profile in the moonlight. Before she could stop herself, she brushed his hair off his forehead. He turned, eyeing her silently as she shivered and hugged his blazer closer to herself. "To answer your question back there…" she began, jerking her head at the house behind them that still rumbled with life. "I don't know." She rubbed her arms into the remaining heat left behind by Chuck's body. "But we should do it more often."

Chuck's jaw worked as he resumed staring at the stars above. "We'll see…" he trailed off quietly, sensing her disappointment though he couldn't explain how exactly. "I'm a busy man, Blair," he sighed, wincing at the repetition of his earlier, harsher words. "I can't take off here all the time."

"I know," she replied quietly, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle out of the skirt of her dress. "It just… feels so natural. Don't you think?" She turned her face up to him, expectant.

Hesitantly, Chuck met her gaze, her soft doe eyes that could soften any heart, then leaned in and gently captured her lips. "We'll see," he repeated against her lips, then stood, holding out his hand. "The car's waiting."

Blair followed, hugging Chuck's blazer to her shoulders as if his heat could penetrate her permanently.

#

"Let's celebrate our success," Chuck said suddenly as they neared the cluster of apartment buildings and old Victorian homes, and reached for a concealed bottle of champagne next to him. Obviously he'd known they'd be triumphant.

"To us!" she said, then squealed when he popped the bottle and sparkling foam spilled over the neck and into the glass he'd readied.

Eyes sparkling, he handed her her glass and soon raised his into the air. "To us," he intoned with a triumphant grin before his expression suddenly froze. A tiny chirp sounded in the pocket of his blazer – Blair felt it buzzing latently against her breast. Frowning, he reached inside and pulled his phone out, reading the text message on the screen. His brows knit together in a harsh slash, his mouth flattening into a grim line. This didn't bode well…

"Bad news?" Blair asked after a moment when he didn't respond anyhow.

He was still silent for a time, then, "I have to be in Tokyo tomorrow night – our time."

"Oh." Blair said tonelessly, nursing her glass silently with a curious emptiness settling in her chest. Tomorrow morning he'd be gone as quickly as he'd come.

Chuck stuffed his phone into his trouser pocket, clinking his glass against hers suddenly. A fraction of the previous glint was back in his eyes. "Let's celebrate, Blair. Victory."

Blair smiled, but her enthusiasm was half gone as well at the prospect of his imminent departure. "Victory."

And he noticed. Instructing the chauffeur to drive around the block, Chuck then turned back to her, earnest concern etched in his eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly, cradling her cheek tenderly.

"I don't know," was all she could reply, hollowly, even as she pressed her cheek into his palm, closing her eyes against the smooth strength she found in his touch.

Chuck's mouth twisted in half amusement. "You'll have to do better than that."

She shrugged helplessly, meeting his gaze and unable to look away. "I don't know, Chuck. I just… don't know."

"What?" He leaned in just out of reach.

His nearness totally jumbled any coherent explanation she might have been able to give to explain the bittersweet void eating away in her chest. "Me… you…" she began in confusion. "Can we… do you…"

She felt his breath fanning across her face gently. "Do I what?" Stirring her hair, her heart.

Speechless, unable to voice anything anymore, Blair swallowed and brought her hand over his, tugging it down over her breast, over her thudding heart.

Chuck sucked in a breath, nostrils flaring, and his hand barely moved over her breast but she felt small tightening flicker all over her body. She parted her lips, sure that he could feel every heartbeat distinctly. Wordlessly Chuck laced his fingers through her free hand, bringing it up to his own chest. His heart beat in tandem with hers, strong and leaping wildly at her touch.

Blair released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding in. Leaning in, she brushed her lips against his almost chastely, and he replied just in kind, the kiss a sweet one that stroked through her gently. "Do you think we can… when you come back…" she whispered, sighing when his hand slid into her hair to cradle her neck loosely. She shivered deliciously.

Eyes closed, Chuck nodded. "Yeah," he replied hoarsely.

"Thank you," she whispered back. "Take me home." Then, adding with a pointed grin, "_Alone_."

Chuck laughed out loud, effectively shattering the solemnity of the moment.

#

Roughly a week later during Mrs Sherman's class, Blair spotted Nelly Yuki at the front corner near the English professor. Oh, she hadn't changed much outwardly – become a bit duller though her appearance was a long way from her pet minion days – but her gaggle of tittering girlfriends remained in what seemed to have become their customary spot in the back, and one of their own seemed to have risen in their ranks quite naturally. Nelly's shoulders were hunched as she faced the front quite stiffly, her nose buried in her notebook as Mrs Sherman explained what class and desire typically affected on one another and how novelists weaved them both into stories of budding love-that-should-not-be.

Blair wasn't even listening past "sweet new beginnings invariably become bittersweet as the two parties realise there's a social ravine between them". Mrs Sherman had it wrong. As she caught Nelly Yuki's eye, Blair knew that _bitter beginnings _could sometimes end very sweetly indeed. And she wasn't even wearing a crown.

Suddenly her phone buzzed in her purse with the arrival of a new text message. Blair fished it out, keeping a watchful eye on Mrs Sherman, and quickly read it. Then rolled her eyes in delight.

_B,_

_Arranged for a proper full-week maid. Couldn't refuse._

_-C_

.

FIN

_

* * *

_

**Author's note**: I'll have to admit I don't think this is my best work ever, but I really enjoyed writing it and especially Chuck and Blair's re-developing... whatever it is they'll get to call this :)

As I mentioned earlier, this fic was part of a loosely related series I've been planning in my head for about a month. There's nothing very cemented yet as to what will come next. I'm thinking about doing a mini-NJBC one (rather cute if I can do it justice!), but then I could also go the sequel way where we meet our pair again a few months later where I'm thinking of bringing back Emma from 2x09 (serious content alert). Show of hands if you're reading this: what do you want? Fluff cuteness or something the two of them would cut a bitch for? Please review to let me know. Or, you know, PM me if you're too shy? I dunno. Whichever suits you.

And finally, I wouldn't normally do this kind of thing because I don't honestly care for how ~popular~ I am or whatever, but if you'd like to follow this series, please add me to author alert. Here's why: I will be posting each fic separately. I _do_ post in different fandoms, but you'll be able to tell what's part of the _Behold Man_ series because I'll be tagging the stories as such in the summary.

Thanks for reading!


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